


A Missing Attraction

by fearamiid



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, Body Horror, FNAF 3 - Freeform, Five Nights at Freddy's - Freeform, Five Nights at Freddy's 3, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, No Romance, Non-Canon Springtrap, Reader is gender neutral, Thriller, fnaf - Freeform, i can’t read the books so ur gonna have to deal with my interp of him lol, reader has ADHD, still trying to keep him as canon as i can tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29478846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearamiid/pseuds/fearamiid
Summary: A few days after starting a job as a mechanic at Fazbear’s Fright: The Horror Attraction, Y/N stumbles upon a decayed and literal corpse of an animatronic. By their boss’ request, they attempt to repair the poor old Spring Bonnie suit, unknowing to the history behind it and the soul possessing it.
Kudos: 11





	A Missing Attraction

**Author's Note:**

> this is just meant to be a drabble - i don't know how many chapters i'll add, but i'll probably update this once in a while.
> 
> also, warning for obvious descriptions of gore, including mentions of veins, muscles, intestines, blood, skulls, and cell tissue. it's brief, but springtrap is springtrap - he has a body inside him. another thing to note is that i don't live in america, nor do i study engineering, so my knowledge of these things is very limited, so my apologies if this isn't as accurate as it can be. reader also uses they/them pronouns, and i'll be adding tags to this story as i go.
> 
> another thing i'd like to note is that i don't have the books nor can i afford them right now, and i've,, never read them. plus, this is just for fun and something for me to write for myself!! it isn't gonna be the most true to canon but most things are still there - at least, the things i know of. i hope you guys will like my interpretation of springtrap and whatever i do with this story :') also, i can't wrap my head around the timeline as well as others can - please keep that in mind. again, this isn't meant to be super serious nd is just for fun. this is also self indulgent, hence why the reader is afab, enby, and has adhd.
> 
> of course, "y/n" means "your name". with that, lets get into the story.

It wasn’t a dark and stormy night, unlike how quite a few stories start. However, just because the night was calm, doesn’t mean unfortunate events couldn’t occur at any moment.

Y/N swung the door to Fazbear’s Fright open with a gentle creak, the circular doorknob just barely touching the wall inside. It was just as dark as yesterday, and the day before. They knew it was a horror attraction, and such places tended to be dimly lit, if at all, to help set the atmosphere. However, this didn’t stop them from wishing there were better lighting in this place. The dark was overwhelming, and so was this horrid, horrid smell.

They shut the door using their foot after they stepped in, backpack slung lazily over their shoulder – thumb tucked underneath the strap of their bag - while they held a half full cup of iced coffee in their free hand. Boots tapping quietly on the polished, checkered, black and white tile floor, the 19-year-old began their journey through this maze of a building. They walked slowly to take in their surroundings, noting the child-like drawings of the old animal mascots, unknown fabrics, paper decorations, and wires hanging from the ceiling and walls, and the box-shaped presents littered around the floor. There was even an almost empty Chica head at the end of a corridor – almost, because a warm light flickered from the inside. The smell got worse with every step.

Taking a short-lived sip from their drink, Y/N turned into the next hall, gazing at a drawing of a circular Freddy Fazbear. Other posters held cartoonish caricatures of Chica and what’s-his-face…? Bonnie! Chica and Bonnie. Accompanying these drawings were plastic pizzas varying in sizes either hung or stuck to the wall. The thing that really caught their eye, though, were the star-shaped decorations dangling above their head. Despite originally thinking they would be dirty from gathering dust over the years, the baby mobile-esque stars twinkled delicately in the light emitted from the animatronic suit head from the room before. This sent a particular joy through them, shown through the bouncing of their feet and the flapping of their free hand.

They were unsure how they had missed it the first couple of days before, but upon turning around and lowering their head, Y/N’s sparkling eyes landed on something at the end of the hallway. Something human-sized, blocky, and shiny. Something that took them back to their childhood.

An arcade machine.

They rushed over, having not seen one of these in thirteen years. They ignored the overwhelming smell and urge to gag as best they could as their hand landed on the joystick. It wasn’t turned on, as expected, but that didn’t matter to them; it made them feel nostalgic either way. One click of a smooth, round, red button, and they were back in a crowded arcade, the sounds of beeps coming from space shooters, jingles and whirrs of money and tokens dispensing from machines, and moans of disappointment from groups of teens as somebody lost just as victory was within their grasp. The mechanic couldn’t help but give a gentle smile while their eyes gazed over the edges and shadows of the game machine.

Then something shimmered in the shadows.

Y/N jumped out of their skin as they turned to see the source of the smell. Torn, rotten, and unpleasantly tucked in the corner sat a decayed mascot suit. No; not just a suit – a whole animatronic. In the ripped eye sockets sat two eyeballs, light grey, empty, examining the floor. It was all olive green, holes everywhere, wires poking out, stained with _something_ (it was almost impossible to know what in the very limited light), and what they assumed were either wires or torn material throughout the inside, most notably connecting the head to its shoulders, surrounding the endoskeleton next. It had two bunny ears, although, only half of the right ear was present atop its head.

The sight was… unnerving, to say the most. Not really scary once they got used to it, though, so they continued throughout the building like normal, shrugging off the fright they had gotten before. The smell got less and less bad as they walked away, but still lingered no matter what part of the building they were in.

Only a minute had passed, and they were in the security office. They’d expected to see Mike, but it was only 9:43 PM, and his shift started at 12. They were alone.

The faulty lights above buzzed and a desk fan whirred – why was it on? Was someone else here with them? There shouldn’t be. Maybe someone accidentally left it on before they left. That must have been the case.

Y/N set their bag down on the desk, glancing at the little mascot toys and a crumpled paper before their attention was brought to a poster of Freddy similar to the one in an earlier corridor. They reached a pointed finger, poking Fazbear’s nose, earning a honk, somehow. They didn’t question it; just giggled. Y/N sat and slouched in the spinning office chair, only after pressing Freddy’s nose a few more times, and exhaled slowly, deeply. They’d probably be here until Mike started his shift, so they’d need a few things to entertain themself with for a while, when they weren’t working. Rolling the chair towards the desk, they zipped open their bag and dug inside for their phone and a speaker. Connecting them, they put on their regular playlist and sung along as they explored the office.

To their right was a large vent, big enough the crawl in. It had nothing covering the entrance, so who knows who could crawl through. That would give Mike a fright once the place opened up. Then again, whoever crawled through would also get a surprise…

Upon the desk sat a tablet, showing a room with a red fox head used as a lamp, as well as an empty paper cup, and… a half-eaten hotdog. ‘Who the hell left this place like this?’ Y/N thought to themself with a sigh, grabbing a tissue from their bag and using it to pick up the food waste and cup, stepping out of the office and using the exit right next to it to throw the waste into a dumpster.

Now back in the office, they sang along to the song that had began playing moments before, sitting back down in the chair and swinging their right foot. They picked up the tablet and examined the scene a little more closely: in the corner were what seemed to be completely useless black tubes. On the walls accompanying the empty mascot head were familiar drawings of the animatronics from an old location, and below was another vent opening. To the left was a doorway leading to another hall, which they assumed to be the hall with the empty Bonnie shell – and they were proven right when they switched the camera.

Flicking through all the screens, Y/N came upon the same hall they had been in earlier that evening: the one with the arcade machine, and, most notably, the animatronic. They could just barely make out the metallic foot sticking out from behind the doorway, slumped next to the machine. It didn’t take long for them to get bored, so they carefully set the handheld monitor back down onto the desk and swivelled back and forth on the chair, tapping their fingers on the cold arm.

A new song began to play – they recognised it instantly as a Britney Spears song. They looked down to their right to see a toolbox and an empty vodka bottle, smashed with maroon pieces of glass scattered here and there. Who knows how long that had been there…

To their left, they spotted a box, filled with old animatronic parts. This sparked an interest in Y/N as they got up and picked up the first mask they saw; blue, with a white snout and red cheeks. They pressed it to their face and laughed, turning around and pretending to be this shiny version of the rabbit robot as they sung along to the song, even making up their own small choreography as they went along.

As they turned back around at the end of the first chorus, their blood ran cold. On the other side of the glass stood something green, something rotten, something _robotic_. Standing tall and crooked was the animatronic. It did nothing, just watched – they had no idea it was active. It took them a few moments to get over the panic, and whatever the robot reeked of, before the mechanic took the mask off and cautiously put it back in the box with the other empty heads and damaged parts. Now stood in the empty room having a staring contest with the torn bunny, they turned the music down. The robot still watched, observing, making the human feel like prey for just a moment.

“Hey, big guy.” They spoke after a while, offering a soft grin, but getting no reaction, of course. “You need repairs, right? The boss told me you did – something about a voice box?” Y/N mused in a sweet tone, wiggling their fingers as their hands rested by their hips. They shifted their weight from one foot to the other, then back again, as their hands met to fiddle with their fingers. “Will you let me do that? I’ll be gentle; I won’t hurt you.”

Giving a quiet whirr, the bot cocked its head to the side, and, after a few more seconds of staring, limped into the office. Y/N smiled.

~~******* ~~

It was tall. Taller than they’d expected. They knew these things were meant to be big, but not towering like this one was. Well, compared to Y/N, at least – they always seemed to be lacking in height. It must have been about 6’7”.

The thing took no more steps towards the smaller; it just stood with its torso tilted to its right and one arm hanging limply from its shoulder. The teen grabbed the toolbox and flipped it open, taking out a screwdriver they thought would fit nicely, then made their way towards the mascot, covering their mouth and nose with the sleeve of their baggy, blue jumpsuit to block the smell. As they leaned it to examine its neck, they felt as though they were going to pass out.

Those weren’t wires nor loose fabric connecting its head and torso, but human remains – veins and muscles. Looking down, they found a large clump of what could only be intestines winding around the endoskeleton’s spine. Inside were more grossly red and pink remains, even bones. Dried blood covering most of the inside and even some of the outside of the suit resulted in matted green fur. Looking up, they gazed into this monster’s open mouth to see something else, red and skinny. It was a human skull, still covered top to bottom in cell tissue. So, that was why it smelled so vile.

Y/N dropped the screwdriver and let out a sound of horror. They felt their legs start to give out as they backed up, now crawling backwards on their hands, staring in fear at the amalgamation of corpse and animal, whose opal eyes bore into them still. In their state of panic, they cut the palm of their hand open on the glass bottle, blood oozing out of the cut flesh. That was going to be infected, if they even got out of here alive. Uncontrollable tears began to pour out of their wide eyes as they gasped before they flipped themself over and began to crawl hurriedly through the vent. They had no clue where this thing led to, and if it would even help. But that didn’t matter to them now; they needed to get away from that thing.

Looking behind them, they saw nothing. Continuing through the vent system, the engineer panted, trying to keep their composure so this state of shock and panic didn’t mould into hyperventilation, ignoring the stinging pain in their hand. A trail of blood, smudged from their hand, knee, and foot, sat upon the cold metal. They choked on their tears, finding it difficult to make their way to the other side in the darkness and through their blurred vision.

A few moments had passed, and they found their way out of the vent to safety. They huffed as they got to their feet, straightening their posture and looking up to see the tall figure again. They screamed bloody murder and raised their arms and braced for whatever was to come.

Eyes squeezed shut, they continued to wait, and wait, and nothing came. They opened an eye and lowered their guard for a moment, staring up at the animatronic that simply stared back. Blood dripped onto their sleeve. The bundle of matted fur and glitching electronic devices raised a hand, curling all its fingers but its index, and pointed to its chest.

“Springtrap.”

A few seconds passed, and Y/N opened their other eye, lowered their arms a little more. “What…?”

“My name is Spri-Spri-S-Springtrap.”

This thing spoke? It had a name?

Taking in a deep breath, Y/N let their arms rest, fiddling with the fabric of their jumpsuit nervously. If the fabric of their clothing hadn’t been so strong, it would have been ripped to shreds by now. “You-You have a name…?” They asked. Springtrap nodded. “You aren’t gonna hurt me?” They questioned cautiously. Springtrap shook its – his? – head. Relaxing their shoulders, Y/N exhaled shakily. “I’m Y/N…” They stated before they glanced at their still bleeding right hand, cursing under their breath.

“That needs t-to be patched up-up-up.” Springtrap stated. There didn’t seem to be any real worry in his tone. Expected – he was a robot. Mostly.

He spoke in a deep, gravelly, hushed voice. It took them a moment to pick up on it, but he had a British accent – they couldn’t pinpoint which part of Britain exactly, but they just knew it wasn’t American as they expected it to be. Along with this, his voice was glitching all over the place.

“Yeah.” Y/N started, frowning. “It does.” Swallowing a lump in their throat, they squeezed past the animatronic and trailed down the hall after a couple awkward seconds of standing in silence. Despite how big and supposedly heavy the robot was, he was quiet – just watching as the smaller figure walked away, but soon joined them. Not long after, they were back in the office, music now turned off.

Opening and closing the desk’s drawers, the 19-year-old wiped the rest of the tears from their eyes and cheeks with their non-injured hand, sniffling and tapping their foot. They recounted the events of that night the best they could, not having the best memory, as they closed another empty drawer. They were overwhelmed, from starting a new job, to the repeated sickly green and yellow colours of the building, to the smell, to the pain, to Springtrap. What _was_ he? _Why_ was he like that? How did these people salvage him from the aged building and not notice human remains inside? _What happened to him?_

Springtrap stood in the doorway, posture still poor, and observed them again. “What are y-y-you look-looking for?”

“A first aid kit-- aha!” Y/N cheered triumphantly as they pulled another drawer open, taking out a seemingly unused and newly bought first aid kit, pushing the drawer closed with their hip. Opening the box, they sat on the swivel seat next to the desk, pulling out some equipment to help treat the wound.

As they did so, they felt a lingering dread. It crawled on their back like a spider. While Springtrap didn’t _seem_ to want to hurt them right now, they still were unsure if they would leave this place alive or even in one piece. They didn’t feel safe, and the smell was just a reminder of what was inside him… It was an uncomfortable, sick feeling, made even worse by the very decaying mess watching from the door.

They took a small bottle of antibacterial cleansing gel, squeezing some on the uncut part of their right hand, taking some on the fingers of their left, and grimaced as they spread it over and around the wound. It stung, _a lot_. But, it was better than having no hand at all. After this, they used an antibacterial ointment and once again creased their features; a pained expression had spread across their face as they recognised the feeling of discomfort and overwhelming distress swirling around in their chest while the heel of their foot tapped on the tile floor.

It didn’t take long for the dead body/animatronic to approach, tipping the waste bin over and sitting on the underside of it when he realised they were struggling with the bandage. Y/N reeled back when he reached for their hand, looking at Springtrap cautiously, causing the robot to give what could be assumed to be a frown and a whirr. “I’m trying to help.”

Another moment of prudent peering went by before they extended their arm to him, albeit nervously, and let him wrap the bandage. He was shockingly heedful, watching what he was doing and being sure to thoroughly cover the wound. Their only complaint was that it felt a little tight, but it wasn’t enough to make them worry any further.

They gathered the things neatly into the little, white box and put it back where they found it, then exhaled, gazing at the glossy flooring. It was surprisingly clean, for such a place that seemed so water and age-damaged; they could see their reflection rather well in the black and white tiles.

Rolling their head upwards, their eyes met Springtrap’s. Quickly glancing away again, they wiggled their fingers and tapped them on their thigh. For what felt like the fifteenth time tonight, the mascot suit watched.

Silence, until,

“So,” He began. “Are you go-going to fix my voice-voice box?”

This caused them to mentally recoil. They didn’t like the idea of facing _that_ again. In an attempt to take their mind off of it – and because they had just lost track of time – they looked at the time on their phone, wondering when exactly they were meant to leave again. It was 11 o’clock. They were meant to leave in the next hour to let Mike get on with his shift.

Turning back to Springtrap, who was still looking down at the smaller, they sighed and nodded, searching for then picking up the screwdriver they had dropped on the floor earlier. Pulling the chair closer to Springtrap, they prepared for the worst, and poked the small tool through the spaces of the veins and muscles, and into the metal endoskeleton neck. With a bit of fidgeting, Y/N got to work.

“So,” They started after fixing his voice box in silence, putting the screwdriver away once they’d finished. “How did you get like… this?”

He grumbled, eyes half-lidded to show minor annoyance. “It’s rude to comment on people like that, you know.”

Oh, _please_. “Well, it isn’t every day you stumble upon a corpse inside of an animatronic.” Y/N crossed their arms over their chest, leaning back in the chair and giving Springtrap the same look he’d given them. They felt sick just saying that.

The robot gave a whirr and a puff of steam, glancing away. “Years and years ago, I was hiding from… some people, and I hid in this suit.” He gestured to himself, seeming more and more agitated. His voice no longer glitched. “I was foolish enough to do so, when I knew that the building wasn’t stable; water was leaking through… It triggered the springlocks inside. They crushed me, and I was left for dead, for _years_.” He gave a small, wheezing laugh as he propped his forehead in his hand, arm resting on the desk. “I was profoundly alone. I don’t even remember what it was like before. Now I’m stuck in this god damn suit.”

They gulped, voice wobbling in an attempt to get their words out whilst they stared in that same returning horror. “Y’know, I’m gonna need to tell someone-“

“ **No!** ”

One minute, Springtrap was sitting on the upside-down waste bin, the next, he was in Y/N’s face, both of his hands gripping the chair’s arms to keep them trapped, hunched and towering over the cowering mechanic. They let out a yelp, eyes wide and heart racing. “If you do that, they’ll throw me out or send me to the police, and God knows what they’d do to me.” He growled, wide, hate-filled eyes glaring through Y/N. “I didn’t get stuck in this prison for thirty years just for nothing.”

“Okay..” Y/N squeaked, curling into themself, avoiding eye contact. Springtrap felt their unsteady breath on his face. He stood up, letting the chair go. A deafening silence rung through the air. Minutes later, the bot spoke again.

“I need you to take me with you.”

“What?”

“I’m not staying here for the rest of my life, being everyone’s entertainment or plaything. No, I can’t have that.” A few of his fat, mouldy fingers twitched, one after the other, as he stared into the desk in thought. “I need to go with you.”

“Wh… Where? To my home? I can’t take you there; my family could find out!” Or, they could get murdered.

“Never mind them!” He snarled. “Listen, before you know, I’ll be out of your hair.”

“And, what if you get caught?”

“That won’t be a problem. Like I said, I’ll manage. I may not be the strongest, but I’m sure I could take on any measly little human.”

With a thoughtful look, Y/N pondered on this. Maybe he was right.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Oh, you humans. Always so… selfish.” Springtrap purred with a gruff chuckle. “I don’t know. You won’t have anything to really fear here. It’ll be worth the pay.” The tall, possessed rabbit suit laughed, giving a wink. “What do you say?”

“… Alright.”

~~******* ~~

When he entered the building, the door had been left unlocked, and there were blood splatters on the floor. Joyous whistling cut short, the man furrowed his brows as he followed the trail all the way through the halls and into the office. The droplets were followed by large, red footsteps, too big and weirdly shaped to be human. Using his flashlight, he peered into the vent to find much more blood, smudged, and continuing around the corner. Michael frowned, concern growing within him as he wondered,

“What the fuck?”


End file.
